


Sherlock drabbles/double drabbles

by daasgrrl



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 15:59:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daasgrrl/pseuds/daasgrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock drabbles originally written using prompts from the BBC Sherlock Last Drabble Writer Standing Challenge while it was in progress, just to see if I could learn to write to order. Given that I gave up after three weeks, probably not. Possession (200 words); Fraud (100 words); Piracy (200 words); Conspiracy (100 words); Trespass (100 words); Bribery (221B); Arson (100 words); Treason (300 words).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Possession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock/John, double drabble (200 words)

Sherlock hadn't been lying when he'd said he that was clean. Now. Still, temptation was always there when the boredom became too much to bear. On cocaine the world became almost interesting again, the connections in his brain flashing and sparking almost too fast to follow. In contrast, the cigarettes took the edges off, soothed his frayed nerves and made the boredom more bearable.  
  
But now there was John, with his steady companionship, genuine curiosity, and a gratifying capacity for surprise and admiration. He had proven endlessly stimulating; with his words, of course, but also in more private moments with his hands and lips and tongue. And yet in other ways he was solid and grounding; the rock upon which Sherlock's wild frenzies could batter and break and yet itself endure.  
  
Since he had moved in Sherlock had managed without either of his previous vices. But John came with one significant disadvantage - unlike the drugs or cigarettes, he could not be bought, sold, or owned. He was very far from being a controlled substance of any kind. Yet Sherlock willingly paid the emotional price of maintaining his habit. At least Lestrade would never be able to charge him with possession.


	2. Fraud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock/John, drabble (100 words)

"Sex doesn't alarm me," Sherlock had claimed, truthfully. It was only bodies engaged in a simple and savage biological imperative. He'd experimented; he'd been felt up and sucked off, had penetrated another body and been penetrated in turn. While the process was subject to many variations, the outcomes rarely changed. Overall it was tedious and messy, and he resented the minutes where his brain refused to function normally as he approached orgasm. 

No, sex didn’t alarm him. But as he stole another furtive glance at John over the breakfast table, he could only be grateful that Mycroft hadn’t mentioned ‘love’.


	3. Piracy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock/John, double drabble (200 words)

“Sherlock, what did you do to my computer?”

“You were downloading pornography. Again.”

“So? What business is it of yours?”

“It’s distracting.”

“What… me wanting to watch a little something I’m not getting a whole lot of at the moment is distracting. To you.”

“Yes.”

“I know I’m going to regret this… but why?”

“What you may not have realised about these houses is that the air vents run in a direct line from top to bottom.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh’. Also, ‘god, yes’, ‘fuck, that’s good’ and ‘christ, I’m going to…’”

“Yes, thank you Sherlock, that’s quite enough. I get the idea.”

“As did I. Quite vividly.”

“And you found it… distracting, did you? Why?”

“What?”

“You heard me. We live on a busy road. There’s all kinds of noises around here. Traffic, sirens, drunks, Mrs Hudson vacuuming at all hours. And you could ignore for England. You never complain when I play music or watch telly. So what is it about those _particular_ noises you find distracting? _”_

“I see Lestrade still hasn’t made any progress on the Burnsen case.”

“Nice try. I thought you weren’t interested in sex. I didn’t even think you… you know.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”


	4. Conspiracy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock/John, drabble (100 words)

When he’d met Mrs Hudson, she’d questioned the need for an extra bedroom.

Mycroft had expected something more than a flatmate.

Angelo had presumed he was Sherlock’s date.

Irene had said something confusing about love, and the way he’d punched Sherlock.

There’d also been apologetic innkeepers, insinuations in the press, and a succession of ex-girlfriends, all with frighteningly similar complaints.

John wasn’t paranoid by nature, but he’d begun to feel trapped in a giant conspiracy.

“Sherlock,” he finally asked, “why _is_ it that everyone I meet automatically thinks we’re together?”

Sherlock kissed him absent-mindedly, and turned back to the microscope.


	5. Trespass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock/John, drabble (100 words)

Strictly speaking, the house belonged to _her_ , so she’d become used to wandering in and out as it suited her. Although she wasn’t a housekeeper, she occasionally brought along a feather duster or a nice plate of home-made biscuits. Two bachelors, and neither of them much for domestics, although John did his best, bless him.

“Just popping out to the shops!” she called, entering the kitchen. “Do you need anything?”

She thought she heard a muffled response, so she followed it to the bedroom, looked in, and then hurriedly left. It was probably better they bought their own groceries, anyway.


	6. Bribery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock/Lestrade, 221B format

“No,” Sherlock said, stretching himself out disdainfully.

“Look, John’s away, you’re clearly bored out of your brain, and I’ve got a double homicide.”

“But not an _interesting_ double homicide. Domestic.”

“You can tell that from the sofa, can you?”

“From what you’ve told me, yes.”

“Even _we’re_ not that stupid. You know quite well there’s more to it; you just can’t be bothered getting up.”

Sherlock’s mouth twitched. “I always said you were one of the smarter ones.”

“Right. Move over.”

Lestrade sat, Sherlock’s head settling sulkily in his lap, Lestrade’s hand stroking lightly through his hair.

“I don’t know what you hope to achieve by that.”

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

“Shouldn’t. Might strain something.”

“Fine, remembering, then. It’s good, isn’t it, with John. You look happy these days. Well, for you.”

“It’s making _you_ cloyingly sentimental. Are you admitting you made a mistake?”

“It was the right thing to do, saying no. You need to hear it more often. I couldn’t have taken advantage, anyway, not with the state you were in then.”

“God save us from honourable men.”

“I didn’t think you believed in either of those things.” Lestrade smiled.

“I don’t.”

Lestrade dropped a soft kiss on his forehead, knowing it would never be more. Sherlock rolled his eyes, but got up anyway.

“Well, if you’re stooping to _bribery_.”


	7. Arson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock/John, drabble (100 words)

They’d been smouldering for far too long; each casual glance, each accidental brush, each moment of shared laughter another stick of kindling.

Combustion, however, was hardly an accident, not with John’s hands so sure, his touch so deliberate. His relentless heat igniting them both, every inch of skin burning where it pressed against Sherlock’s. His breath against Sherlock’s mouth, around his cock, fanning the flames ever higher. Impossible to _think_ with every nerve ending alight, impossible to _breathe_ through the choking haze of desire, of his body’s imminent betrayal.

When Sherlock burned to ash, he’d know exactly who to blame.


	8. Treason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock/John, triple drabble (300 words)

Once upon a time, there lived a great King. He dwelled in a vast Palace, full to bursting with precious objects, and yet such were his powers of acquisition that he constantly needed to discard the obsolete or unworthy to find room for the new. Although he lived alone, he never felt lonely, for he had complete mastery of his intellectual realm, with Reason his constant companion.

One day there came a rapping at the door. The King frowned; visitors were not encouraged, and his screening protocol for usefulness had not been observed.

“Hello, I’m John,” the man said, brushing past the startled King. Before he could be ordered to leave, John began admiring the King’s collections, and so sincere and unstinting was his praise that against all good judgement the King let him stay. Even though it meant clearing an entire room especially for him.

Despite the shortage of space in the palace, one wing was kept blocked off, unused, and it did not long escape John’s notice. “What do you keep in there?” he asked one day.

“That’s none of your concern,” the King snapped. “You have freedom of all rooms here save those. Stay out of them if you value your life.”

However, John did not fear the King’s wrath. He waited until the King was engaged in one of his periodic contemplations, and broke the lock on the door. To his amazement the treasures in this one place outshone all the rest combined. Here were diamonds of sparkling joy and dark bloodstones of despair, shimmering emeralds of jealousy and wine-red rubies of deepest desire. He stood amidst them all and marvelled until he was discovered.

“What are you doing?” the King shouted, furious.

“Only what needed to be done,” John declared, and kissed him at last.


End file.
